


Familiar Faces in Strange Places

by Jessi_aka_pyro



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Brian Banner's A+ Parenting, Bruce Banner Has Issues, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Depressed Bruce Banner, Depressed Tony Stark, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Science Boyfriends, Science Bros, So here's a large whopping heap of angst, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, i love the angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-09-08 16:19:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8851726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessi_aka_pyro/pseuds/Jessi_aka_pyro
Summary: It’s been approximately 76 hours since Tony got the letter from Steve. It’s been 37 hours since he left the Avengers compound. And it’s been 5 and a half hours since he finally was able to close his eyes without wanting to scream. 13 minutes ago he was asleep. Now he was staring at his blank ceiling with panicked breathing. He should try to go back to sleep, but he knew that he was better off fighting to stay awake.Previously titled "Love can be Found in the Most Unsuspecting Places"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Yes yes I know I have many stories unfinished but man I NEEDED to get this out. So HA! Hope you like my procrastination ^^ I have so many emotions about Tony and Bruce. And with Civil War over and Ragnarok coming, I just ugh. I need more. And unfortunately there aren't nearly enough Science bros fanfics out there. So hopefully this will help pull out the actually good science bro writers ^^ Any who, I'm rambling. Hope you guys like it.

**_Chapter 1_ **

 

It’s been approximately 76 hours since Tony got the letter from Steve. It’s been 37 hours since he left the Avengers compound. And it’s been 5 and a half hours since he finally was able to close his eyes without wanting to scream. 13 minutes ago he was asleep. Now he was staring at his blank ceiling with panicked breathing. He should try to go back to sleep, but he knew that he was better off fighting to stay awake.

 

The fighting…

 

Tony sighs and rolls to his side. The few hours he’s gotten has left him more exhausted than before, fear and panic burning hot trails through his mind. The image of Cap lifting his shield over Tony’s face, ready to swing down into his neck, refuses to leave him. Tony thinks of Rhodey, now crippled, trying his hardest to recover. Tony’s tried. He’s tried countless times to get better. He knows he’s fucked up. He was getting better though. After the mandarin. With Pepper. And Bruce. And JARVIS. Tony remembers when he could fucking sleep for more than two or three hours without waking up in a sweat and his heart beating out of his chest.

 

Why did he get to live and be perfectly healthy when he hurt so many people everyday. It was like Vision said. Since he announced he was Iron Man, More and more villains were popping up. Even before Iron Man he was killing people. He knew his weapons were being used. So what if he thought it was against terrorists. They were still people.

 

The image of his friends dead flashed through his mind. He didn’t see that in Strucker’s lair for no reason. He thought he could prevent it from happening by creating Ultron. He’d dragged Bruce into his mess by forcing the poor guy to help him. And look how that turned out. They dropped an entire city on people. And it was all his fault. Then he built Vision. Who, yes is decidedly on their side but… Rhodey…

 

Suddenly Tony felt sick. He’d only made it halfway across his room when he remembered something that T’Challa said about Zemo. The man had set them against each other because Tony had dropped a building on his family.

 

Suddenly he couldn’t walk anymore.

 

Tony collapsed in a pile of his own puke and let out a choked sob. It was all his fault. He’s the one who started the Sacovia Accords. He’s the one who built Ultron. He’d even killed Wanda’s parents. It was his weapons that haunted Bruce’s nightmares. It was probably his fault about New York too if he really thought about it. He shouldn't have ever made it through the other side of that portal.

 

Tony stays as he is, crying silently, long enough for the gunk to solidify onto his clothes. He scowls and tries to find the will to shower. Instead he just takes his clothes off, puts on new boxers and slowly makes his way back to his bed. Maybe tomorrow will be better… He forces himself back to sleep, only to fall into nightmares once more.

  
  


It doesn’t get better.

 

The next morning, Tony wakes to a noise near his head. He’s instantly alert. Tony springs up into action and grabs his attackers wrist, and swinging a leg beneath theirs, sending them to the ground. Only after he has them subdued does he realise who he’s attacking.

 

Pepper stares up at him bewildered. she looks angry and pushes him away as he stumbles back, standing up and brushing non existent dirt off of her pants suit.

 

“Tony! What the /hell/! I just- I left one of my ear peices here and I was trying to find it. Jesus Christ!”

 

“I-i Pepper, I thought-” Tony clamped his mouth shut and shook his head. He’d thought she was here to kill him. He was only protecting himself. But It was Pepper. He’d hurt Pepper.

 

“You thought, what, Tony. And you reek by the way. You need a shower. Now. Again, have you seen my earpiece? The blue and white one. It’s very important.” She looks expectantly at him but all he can do is shake his head. He’d almost attacked Pepper… She sighs dramatically and goes about the room some more when her heel steps in the mess Tony left last night. She frowns and looks back over at where Tony is still on the ground, staring at the spot he’d knocked her down at.

 

“Tony…? Are you alright? Are you sick?”

 

Tony’s mind snaps back into focus and he shakes his head, scrambling to stand. “I’m fine! Come on, Pep, you know me. I drank a bit too much last night, that’s all.”

 

He quickly went to walk past her when she caught his arm. He had to fight not to flinch. Steve Rogers, swinging him back like a rag doll flashed through his mind. He ignored it, focusing on her frown.

 

“Tony? You’re drinking again? I thought we’d agreed that you would quit.”

 

Tony almost laughed at her worried tone. Didn’t she leave him?

 

“Yeah well, you left. So I thought that meant all our old deals were off.” He knew it was harsh, but he didn’t care. He didn’t need people. He needed to push everyone away so he couldn’t hurt anyone anymore.

 

“Tony…” That worried tone she always used dug beneath Tony’s skin. He knew it wasn’t just for him anymore. And it probably never would be again. Tony shook her hand off of him and stood with his back to her.

 

“I said I’m fine. And I only drank last night to go to sleep, okay? So don’t worry about it. A drink here and there won’t make me a raging alcoholic again. I’m not weak.”

 

Before she had a chance to respond, he was already entering the bathroom. He did however stop for just a second long enough to say, “Anything you left is in the top right dresser drawer. Take the whole thing and leave. I’ve got my own stuff to do today.”

 

Tony didn’t stay long enough to see the hurt expression on her face. He didn’t think he could handle it.

  
Pepper left before he finished showering, leaving the rest of his day quiet and empty.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 2_ **

The clanking of armour rang in his ears even before he stepped into his workshop. Tony shook off the noise, refusing to let it twine into a memory of shield and metal clashing. His chest ached, feeling both light and heavy at once as Tony scratched absentmindedly at the oddly smoothed, scarred skin there. He was still getting used to the lack of warm metal ticking away in his chest, holding back scraps of shrapnel threatening his life every second. He’d tried to convince himself it was a good thing. He no longer had the literal bomb threat digging away in his chest. But if he said he didn’t sometimes miss the quiet hum and mechanical warmth of the Arc Reactor, he’d be lying.

He knew it was only a reflection of his mind, but as Tony approached the work table with his beaten armour, Tony could see glimpses of red white and blue reflecting in the scratched metal. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach, infinitely glad he couldn’t remember the last time he ate more than a few chips and a granola bar.

With a stuttered breath, Tony closes his eyes for a quick second, opening them to reality. The red white and blue is gone. Tony feels like a glass shard dislodges from his lungs slightly enough for him to breathe.

And then he gets to work. He asks Jarvis- “ _No. It’s Friday now,”_ he quietly reminds himself- to play some music loud enough to block out the banging and clashing the resounds through his head attempting to drag him under with the pain of loss and betrayal.

He wasn’t aware of the other presence in the room until there was a hand on his shoulder. Tony jumped and immediately swung back his elbow, hitting his attacker square in the nose. The wrench still clamped in his hand was rissen in offense and swung down only for his wrist to be suspended in a strong grip. It was only by the shout of his name that the world came back into focus.

Natasha Romanoff was saying something at Tony, her eyes reflecting something he could almost perceive as worry, but Tony didn’t give himself enough time to process what she was saying. His eyes focused on the blood dripping from her nose where he had hit her. His blood rushed through his ears and he was pretty damn sure his heart was about to race out of his chest. Tony ripped his hand away, vaguely noticed the white mark it left before bruising over, and stumbled backwards. He hit the table and felt trapped. Natasha was holding a hand out, slowing approaching him like one would a scared and wounded animal.

Dropping the wrench, the heavy thud of metal hitting tile made him jump and so Tony spun on his heel and ran. He didn’t get far however, coming to a wall. But he could’ve sworn a door- There were words again, echoing in the recesses of his mind and Tony felt his world spinning. His body grew hot as his heart beat harder and faster. He could hear the faint sounds of Pepper and His father and _Steve Fucking Rogers_ calling him out for being the disappointment he is as his world collapsed. His armour glinted out of the corner of his eye, almost back to normal, but he could still see the scratches and torn off metal, still feel the impact of a shield digging right where his metal heart used to be and twisting violently, metal digging into skin. The feel of copper and iron mixing in his chest once again sending a shock of longing through his pathetic body. Then Steve’s face hovering over his filled with regret, anger, and _determination._ He’d never forget that look. It haunted his dreams, his every waking moment, Tony would always see that face, lurking just past the edge of his vision. Silently judging him for every wrong he ever committed.

Eventually his vision did return and feeling slowly seeped back into his buzzing limbs. Tony could feel someone speaking softly to him as a hand was pushed through his hair. It was almost enough to make him itch and want to crawl away but just enough to help him feel safe and comforted. Tony thanked the stars that he couldn’t feel any other point of contact. He wasn’t sure he could handle anything more than that right now.

Watching the blob of red and tan slowly meld into the familiar face of his, _friend? Coworker? Whatever_. His nothing. Meld into Natasha.

She peered down at him, concern open and easy to read on her usually blank face. He blinked a few times as she came into focus, trying to remember what happen. He was relieved to see the blood was gone.

“Tony? Are you with me?”

With a shaky breath, Tony nodded and pushed her hand away, sitting up with a hand pushed against his face as the migraine formed.

“What _was_ that? Are you o-” She cleared her throat and tried to get their eyes on the same level. “Where did you go?”

Tony almost felt the words pushing out of his mouth but instead he clamped his jaw shut and shook his head, pushing himself up on shaky legs. “I- I need to finish my work. Thanks but you can go now.”

Natasha pulled him back by the wrist and Tony had to fight off the urge to drop her to the ground and run. As much as he tried to hide the reaction, Natasha saw everything. She dropped his wrist immediately, but he was well aware she wouldn't hesitate to grab him again if he ran.

“Cut the crap, Tony. What’s going on.”

Tony hated the tone she used. It made him feels small and transparent. He shook his head harder, trying hard to look _okay._ “Nothing, okay? I’m tired. I just need to sleep. Now go away. Run back to Shield or wherever else you came from.”

Her eyes narrowed, boring into him. “Nothing? Fine. Whatever Tony. I’ll let you pretend. But you are going to eat something right now.”

Tony shrugged and started walking towards his workbench, shrugging off the feeling of dread he got as he approached it. “M’ not hungry,” He mumbled but at Natasha’s nasty glare he sighed. “Fine. I’ll eat.”

Natasha’s glare lightened considerably as she approached the man again. She looked from his distant and somewhat hesitant gaze to the armour and back. Eyes calculating. “How long have you been down here? When I got here I checked your room first, it looked like you havn’t been in there in weeks.”

Tony shrugged again and asked what day it was, picking his wrench back up, the cold metal biting into his palm like a knife.

_“It is approximately 7:34pm, Wednesday, july 5th. Mr. Stark has ‘been down here’ since 2:21am, Saturday, July 1st.”_

Tony gave an annoyed huff, blatantly denying the pang of hurt when the wrong voice spoke above them.

“Since Saturday!? Tony. You’re eating and then getting some sleep. I swear ever since Pepper left-”

“Yeah! She left! And who the fuck are you to come waltzing in here like you’re my mom? Huh!?” Tony had whipped around so fast, even Natasha was caught off guard. He stalked up to her, nearly growling as he shouted at her face. His pulse was rising again as Tony was filled such _anger._ He off handedly wondered if this was how Bruce felt all the time.

“You wouldn’t be though because they’re _dead._ And thanks to you the murderer walks free, hiding somewhere with our _friend.”_

“Tony-”

“You come in here acting like you actually fucking _care._ But you DON’T. You CAN’T care about me or anybody else because you’re a god damn spy. You just came to make sure I wasn’t _killing myself_ well sorry to disappoint but I’m not exactly living.”

“Tony I didn’t-”

“Shut UP SHUT THE FUCK UP, NATASHA! I can’t- I can’t fucking listen to your excuses! Fuck you and _fuck Steve_ And fuck Pepper and Vision and everyone and _especially_ Fuck Bruce _runaway_ Banner for leaving me here alone to deal with all of this bullshit. He’s a damn coward for running away again. He fucking knew I’d be here alone, forced to deal with everything that fucks up around us.”

“What does Bruce have-”

“God fucking damnit I just- Fucking make it fucking stop! I’m tired of flinching at everything and having to fucking _just breathe_ when I close my eyes! I’m just- I’m so god damn-”

“Tired of it all?”

“ _Yes!”_

“Then let me _help_ you. You’ll always be tired if you keep trying on your own.”

Only then did Tony realise that he was shaking. The armour he had spent so long fixing was beaten and dented once again, his wrench clenched so tight he was pretty sure his fingers had long molded to fit around the metal in his death grip. Tears pricked at his eyes as Tony gulped for deep breaths, trying get out of his panicked rage.

“I-I’m fi-”

“Tony, don’t you dare say you’re fine. No one acts like this who is just _fine._ ”

Tony slowly nodded, letting his eyes shut as the brute of the rage melted off his shoulders. Tony let himself slowly lower to the floor, grasping at the cool tiles. He felt like he was _burning._

“...Tony?” Natasha asked hesitantly, not sure of what reaction she was going to get.

Tony _did not whimper_ as he pulled his knees up to his chest, clutching onto the wrench tighten. In a hoarse whisper, Tony let out a quiet, “ _Fuuck,”_ from between his chapped lips, wishing he could hide from the Spy and pretend all of that had never happened.

A hand was carefully placed on his back, making Tony jump in his skin. It stayed though, comforting and reassuring that this was all real. “Tony,” she said in a softer voice than Tony thought was possible, as she tried to meet his eyes which were hidden behind greasy jeans.

Tony kept his mouth closed as his shoulders began to shake. He was _weak. Pathetic._ He was _disgusting._

There was a quiet sigh next to him as he was pulled against Natasha’s chest. He tried to pull away at first but a hand on his back held him in place. “You’re so dramatic. You know you could’ve just messaged one of us and said hey I’m lonely and we would’ve come over. Tony you act like you have no friends, but actually you have many. You just-”

“Shut up…,” He says, turning his face down, away from her gaze.

Another sigh as she nods, practically petting Tony’s head. He must be really out of it to be okay with this but… he was just so tired…

With heavy lids, Tony shut his eyes with an exhausted sigh, keeping his head down. “..I’m not okay,” He whispered just loud enough for Natasha to hear. He felt so used and worn and _weak._ But it was okay, because his friend was here. He wasn’t _alone._ Sure tomorrow might be worse but at least in this moment he felt safe enough to finally just _stop._

“I know,” Nat whispered back. She knew she needed to help this man, despite his usual annoying appearance. He was her friend.

It wasn’t long until Tony fell blissfully unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeyyyy Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Happy Kwanza, whatever the fuck you celebrate, have a happy December guys! Hope this is up to the hype! I'm sorry if it's not ^^ If anyone has questions or suggestions, hmu :D I try to always respond so long as I can think of an intelligent response and I have the time


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter 3_ **

 

It was strange, having Natasha watching over him… Not much different than a hawk watching over it’s young… But that was a weird comparison that Tony decided shouldn’t ever exist.

 

She wasn’t doing ‘mom things’. Just… forcing him to sleep with a glare. Leaving food in convenient places where his tools should be. Making his glasses of alcohol magically disappear when he wasn’t paying attention.

 

And things got… well not better but… bearable. Tony felt like he could breathe again without fighting for hours first. Pepper still came sometimes, berating him and shoving documents in his face all the while making him squirm under her insufferable looks of worry. He still panicked if something moved too fast near him. He still went days without sleep sometimes. There were still days where he didn’t talk for hours and refused to leave his room in fear of his failures and what was to come. But… It was certainly easier. With a friend to help him through it.

 

It wasn’t ideal but… It was nice.

 

Not that Tony would _ever_ admit to that.

 

That’s why when Tony caught wind of some weapons of his in some third world country he’d never heard of called Zanzisomething. _Zanifuckit? Whatever_ , rather than sending Rhodes like Nat persisted, Tony felt well enough to go on his own. She kept urging him to get out of the house anyways.

 

“Yeah but I didn’t mean for your first time to be a mission, Tony. You’re not stable enough.”

 

Tony scoffed at the comment and tried to act as if it didn’t effect him. _“Weak,”_ echoed through his mind but he shook it off. “When was I ever considered ‘stable’? Nat, I’m not broken. I’m a big boy, I can make my own decisions. It’s just going to be a quick fly there and blow shit up kind of thing. It’s fine. Stop Peppering me.”

 

Natasha groans, hiding the top half of her face as she covers it. Her mouth set in a stern grimace. “Tony… Just… I’m not trying to tell you how to live your life. It’s just… You have a lot going on right now. You don’t need the added stress. Just let me do it. Or Rhodey. Someone else. Anyone else. What if you get hurt?”

 

Tony shook his head, preparing one of his suits. Not _That Suit_ , but another one. One he was working on but forgot about. “Nat, seriously. I’m fine. Go big or go home. Don’t worry about me. If I need help, I’ll call.”

 

“At least take the jet?”

 

“What why, It’ll take like a day by jet. It’ll take me half than that by suit.”

 

Nat’s glare used to have Tony on the ground cowering by now. ...Maybe he’s growing immune. “Because, Tony. You’re human. You’re not going to fly your suit for ten and a half fucking hours.”

 

Tony was taken bake by her cursing if anything. He sighed rather dramatically and pouted out his bottom lip, pretending not to be throwing a tantrum like he currently is. “Fine. But I’m still going. _Alone._ If I catch wind of you or anyone else tailing me, That’s it. You’re out.”

 

Natasha raised an eyebrow at the weak threat but nodded anyway. She may not like it but it was obvious he wasn’t budging. Didn’t mean she still wasn’t going to follow him though.

 

The flight ended up taking eighteen hours and only because Tony's jet was faster than most aircrafts. To say he was feeling nervous about the outside world was an understatement. He didn’t take back anything he said to Natasha but… maybe he was in over his head. Tony shook his head as a full body shudder ran through him. He could do this.

 

After a day or two of surveying the island and picking up odd radio signals here and there, it was pretty obvious where his weapons were being held. After all there were only so many places one could hide Stark Industry ammunition. They tended to be big and flashy like the creator.

 

Planning a form of attack was the easy part. Getting the suit on was proving to be… taxing.

 

Tony stared at it with fear and trepidation. He’d worn it just fine while surveying. It didn’t even remotely resemble _The Other Suit_. And yet here he was, struck frozen with fear, staring into red and gold plated metal.

 

This was stupid. It wasn’t a big deal. He was just going in and blowing shit up. Stuff he does at his home all the time. This shouldn’t be an issue. Tony could feel claws digging at his mind and a giant weight falling on his chest and he hated himself all the more for it. _This was ridiculous, damnit!_

 

He approached the suit with baited breath and eyes firmly shut tight. It wasn’t until he could feel the cool metal radiating against his skin that he reopened them. Sending a spike of panic back through him. Tony quickly took a generous amount of steps back, hoping that the space created could help replace the oxygen that had left his lungs.

 

It shouldn’t be this _hard._

 

Tony cursed and wet to the mini fridge the hotel had so graciously provided and took a healthy swig from the tiny bottles of wine hotels tend to have. He drank another. And another. Until there was a nice buzz in his head and a small collection of empty tiny wine bottles. He could fucking do this. He’s Tony fucking Stark. He wasn’t going to let some shitty mental block stop him. That or Steve Rogers.

 

Tony forced himself to walk into the empty suit, his stomach turning in protest. He could feel phantom feelings all over his body, causing him to shiver and shake. A blow to the left and right over and over, getting knocked to his knee as two super soldiers rained down on him, not letting him get up or et an arm in, his focus blurring as the onslaught of attack goes on. His chest felt like it was going explode, his head fuzzy with fear.

 

It was only when the light in the suit flickered did he realize he was subconsciously trying to rip out the suit’s arc reactor. Right where his used to be. Tony forced his palm to open and relax, letting the metal covered hand fall. He gazed at the finger shaped dents around the piece and held back the bile that threatened to rise in his throat.

 

He couldn’t do this.

 

With a stuttering breath, Tony stopped thinking and flew straight out the wall of the hotel. He really should’ve thought of that before he put the suit on in the room, but honestly he couldn’t really bring himself to care. He’d just bill them later. This was good. If he kept himself occupied with other things then he wouldn’t think about screeching metal and onslaughts of super powered punches and stupid shields and faces invading his life.

 

His flight was stuttered as he refocused on the mission. He could do this.

 

The warehouse came into view. Tony gave no fucks so he stopped in the air and shot a small missile at the east wall, blowing a large hole in it. The surprise worked perfectly.

 

People were scrambling left and right, panicking and shouting in a foreign language. Well not foreign here but foreign to him. Tony ignored them and swooped inside looking for his weapons. He spotted them in the middle of the room. Just as he raised his arm to shoot though, bullets started to pelt his side, weakly denting the metal there. Tony turned and shot an electric blast at the assaulters, hoping to only knock them over. When he turned back to the weapons though the area exploded and the weapons went up in flames. The nearby area shook from the blast and Tony lost his balance from the blast.

 

He glided as gracefully as he could to the ground and only then realized the bodies that littered his general area. He… did he do this? Was this from the blast? Who set off his weapons? Tony felt sick as he stumbled back to his feet. He would’ve bent over right where he was to empty his stomach but bullets for hitting him again and Tony went into autopilot. He shot and blocked attacks for what felt like hours as his mind ripped itself apart.

 

This was happening because of _his_ guns. _His_ missiles. _His_ plans for destruction. He did this. People are dying because of his actions. _Again._

 

Ad suddenly he couldn’t breathe again. Smoke was quickly filling the warehouse, blocking his vision. FRIDAY was shouting some kind of warning in his ear but Tony couldn’t hear anything over his pounding heartbeat and the rush of blood in his ear. His breath labored in and out in desperate gulps as he fell to his knees, clutching at his metal covered chest once more. Tony clawed at his face plate, trying to get it off so he could _breathe_  but his fingers weren’t cooperating and instead grasping at the metal, leave long metal scraps across it. His vision started to blur as hot thick tears spilt down his face. His breathing now rapid and shallow, Tony gave up and collapsed on the floor, his back sweating from the heat of the fire even in his air-conditioned suit. There must’ve been a breach in it somewhere anyways because there was a very light screen of smoke inside his helmet.

 

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see, he couldn't move. His head was pounding as sobs left him, metal clanging and punches knocking him around and betrayal and fear and terror striking through every part of him. He wasn’t sure where he was anymore or what was going on he just wanted, no   _needed_  it to just _stop_ he was _screaming_  for it to stop.

 

Hours, minutes, seconds, Tony didn’t know but suddenly his face-plate was being ripped off, which was strange because you’d need a lot of force to rip it off unless you knew where the release latch was and only a few knew of it, but Tony wasn’t thinking of that. He just knew that suddenly there was air where there was not.

 

He was being picked up and spoken too in a quick worried manner but Tony couldn’t focus on that. He grabbed at the wrists in his panicked state, begging to be forgiven. Begging to be given another chance. Past the smoke and flames, all he saw was the disappointed faces of his father and _Steve fucking Rogers._ He also thought he saw Bruce but that was impossible because Bruce left him like everyone else and Bruce wasn’t coming back.

 

“Tony, I- I was coming back, I just... I needed space and-”

 

This wasn’t happening. Tony couldn’t process it. He pushed away, wiping at his face carelessly with his metal hand, only managing to bruise himself and smear tears and other unsavory fluids across his face.

 

Tony tumbled to his feet, trying to take off but he’d missed the warning that his left foot thruster was damaged and only managed to go flying askew to the right instead, crashing into the wall and several boxes.

 

The land rendered the man unconscious as his head collided with the back of his helmet. In his half conscious daze, he’d thought he saw Bruce Banner ripping pieces of his suit off to get to him but… _That’s impossible._


	4. Chapter 4

**_Chapter 4_ **

 

Running wasn’t what he would call it… but well that’s what it was essentially. Bruce had ran away. He couldn’t cope with the team getting any closer. He was becoming too attached. He’d already nearly killed Natasha, built Ultron, what else needed to happen before Shield forced him to leave the tower only to relocate to a cage where they could  _ Contain the Threat _ .

 

He’d like to blame it all on Natasha hitting on him of course, but Bruce knew that wasn’t true. Not entirely anyways. Honestly he should’ve left the moment Tony and he shook hands on the helicarrier so long ago. Bruce didn’t get close to people for a reason. He couldn’t allow things like friendship and trust back into his life. He was cancerous, affecting everyone around him and dragging them down into his downward spiral of depression and death.

 

Maybe it was melodramatic. Maybe he was being a little more self deprecating than what society deems socially acceptable. Ut when anyone who tries to help you usually gets killed, he thinks he’s warranted some unnecessary angst.

 

So yeah. Okay. He ran away. But for good reason. Even the Other Guy agreed that was what was best. If they could do that to Natasha he could only imagine what he could do to someone he actually returned feelings for. It scared him, honestly. He hadn’t felt anything romantic since Betty. Then in walks Mr. Perfect and all of Bruce’s inhibitions are thrown to the wind without caution. And the worst part is, Bruce is pretty sure that if given a second chance he’d do everything the exact same way over again. Well maybe not the nearly killing Natasha part nor creating Ultron but… If that’s what it took to get Tony to invite him into his life then Bruce would probably do it.

 

The only other friend he’d had was Rick Jones. Who died protecting Bruce. His cousin, Jen, was okay too but… she wasn’t Tony. He’d never had such a strong connection in such a short amount of time with someone. The things that man made Bruce feel… He didn’t even think it was possible for him to feel something as rare as love after Betty. Tony did the impossible. He’d made Bruce feel normal. He’d made him feel Human in a life where he’d always been called a monster.

 

It wasn’t hard finding a country to stay in. After turning back into himself, Bruce had let the pane fly until it ran out of fuel. Then he walked for miles until his feet gave out on him. Then he rested and went at it again. He kept going until he didn’t know where he was. If Bruce couldn’t find himself then he was pretty sure Tony couldn’t find him either.

 

Learning a new language and blending in was like second nature to Bruce. Within the year he’d been here, he’d like to say he’d assimilated pretty well. Of course Bruce saw glimpses of news reports showing his friends and teammates but he paid no attention. That was another part of his life. He was never really an Avenger. He was just the sad scientist hat occasionally became useful. Okay so maybe he was being melodramatic again. But he wasn’t wrong. Tony was the genius. There was no need for two scientists on the team. And sure there was the Other Guy’s brute strength but that’s what Thor was for. Thor and Steve’s strength together could easily make up for the lacking muscle from the team. The Hulk was too dangerous to be in public like that.

 

...But he couldn’t really say that anymore could he? He could no longer hide behind his excuses as the Other Guy was learning now. Becoming more coherent and helpful. It was Bruce that was dangerous. The monster that occasionally grew in size and turned green. After all it’s like Steve said. The serum brings out people’s true natures. In him, it brought out his gold heart and righteous personality. In Bruce it… didn’t. It instead brought out his rage and greed and anger. It made Bruce look the way he felt inside.

 

He’d pretended to be human for a while after the change. The Avengers was that trial period. To see if he could be useful for something other than destruction and chaos. He was obviously mistaken though. Ross and his father were right. Bruce would never amount to anything other than being a Monster.

 

While staying in what he later found to be Zanzibar, Bruce had kept to himself. He got a quiet job at a metal shop and a quiet apartment that had chunks of ceiling falling and lived a quiet life. He knew he should probably leave soon but he was selfish. He wanted to stay a little longer with the unspoken hope that someone would come for him. He knew it was unlikely that anyone was looking for him. Bruce knew better than that. But he still couldn’t help the tiny glimmer of hope when he happened to see red and gold in the corner of his eye or a flap of a red cape in the distance. Or smoke streaks left in the sky from a previous jet. It was silly to think the others hadn’t given up on him, but hope was an illogical feeling.

 

Soon days slipped into weeks and weeks slipped into months and now it was verging on a year since he’d arrived in Zanzibar. To say he’d given up on the others finding him was an understatement. Bruce lived everyday in a daze. The Hulk normally buzzing under his skin at every second, seemed to have also slipped into a numb depression. Bruce barely heard a peep from the Other Guy. It seemed as if they both didn’t have the motivation to  _ be. _

 

At least that was until he saw the weapons.

 

Even to a normal person the  _ Stark Industries _ Logo branded on hundreds of boxes in sight were hard to miss. Bruce didn’t know why they were here, but he knew Tony would never go back to making weapons. No matter what the consequences. The billionaire would rather die. So understandably, when Bruce caught sight of them, he’d felt such an intense feeling of anger that he hadn’t felt in months, he’d had trouble keeping it down at first, stumbling slightly due to the blow.

 

It was only a matter of seconds for him to decided to take out every single weapon. It was the least he could do for Tony. It how ever took him a few days to formulate a plan and convince the Other Guy ha wasn’t needed for this. He would like to do it with as few casualties as possible, and though Bruce was growing to trust the Other Guy just a little bit more, he was still big strong and reckless. Bruce couldn’t risk it.

 

So with his pan he’d set out. At first everything went smoothly. And that’s why he couldn’t say he's exactly surprised when the wall exploded. Nothing ever went this well for him.

 

Though when the red and gold suit came flying in, Bruce couldn’t deny the hitch in his throat.

 

It’d been so long since he’d seen him. Bruce had purposely avoided any and all social media so he wouldn’t have to come across the faces of those he’d left behind. And though he wasn’t looking his friend in the face, just seeing him was sending him into a panicked spiral. The Other Guy was begging, no,  _ demanding  _  to be set free. To get closer to Tony. To get that attention he craved from the other. To be treated as a human without fear or hesitation. But Bruce had to carry on with the plan.

 

With much difficulty, Bruce turned away from his… no. He turned away from Iron Man to set the explosives on the boxes. No one even sparing him a glance as Iron Man stole the show.

 

But then the bullets started and Bruce saw the man he’d idolized stutter in his flight. Bruce set off the explosions with a panicked click of a button, hoping it would give Tony the time he needed to recuperate. But then everyone was running out of the building as the fires grew and Iron Man was no longer in the sky.

 

It only took a second of hesitation for Bruce to give in and start screaming for Tony. He found the man curled as much as the suit would allow, unmoving. Finger groves were deeply embedded into the chest and long scratches were on the faceplate. Bruce felt sick.

 

His heart pounded dangerously and his lungs tightened from the growing smoke but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Here Tony was, possibly hurt, and Bruce was just  _ staring _ .

 

He dropped to his knees and lifted Tony’s mechanical head into his lap. Luckily he was wearing o of his older suits that Bruce had actually helped design.  _ Why wasn’t he wearing mark 42… _ But Bruce didn’t have time to ponder that. He flicked the quick release, tossing the faceplate behind him. The Other Guy roared inside of him, giving Bruce a vague sense of Deja Vu but he shook it off when he noticed the tears.

 

Bruce was shocked for a solid minute as he watched the man he’d always viewed as one of the strongest he knew cry like he had nothing left to fight for.

 

Bruce snapped out of it when he felt Tony’s panic seep into him as the man gulped desperately for air he couldn’t seem to get enough of.

 

“Tony? Tony what’s going on. Are you hurt? It’s going to be okay. Breathe, Tony. It’s okay.”

 

Bruce’s chest tightened in fear when Tony’s hand shot out and grabbed hold of his wrist in a crushing grip but he pushed it aside with a reminder that it was just Tony. His heart broke a little more when he noticed Tony was deliriously begging for forgiveness.

 

It wasn’t hard to decide to take Tony back to his tiny apartment. He couldn’t just leave the unconscious man here after all. What was difficult was actually getting him there. Bruce had first started pulling the suit off of Tony in chunks, hiding the pieces around the warehouse. He’d have to come back for those later. No one needed to know how the Iron Man was built but Bruce couldn’t carry Tony in the suit so it was a risk he’d have to take.

 

Getting there… was a process but nearly two hours later, Bruce had finally managed to get Tony to his tiny efficiency. He may have dropped the man ungracefully on his bed with a huff of relief but at least he was here. Bruce quickly locked his door and closed the blinds with a quiet sigh.

 

It took more than one trip but Bruce had finally retrieved all of the suit pieces, sliding down the floor with an exhausted sigh. Tony had stayed asleep throughout the entire process thankfully. Bruce held onto the scratched plate in his shaking fingers. It had been  _ months _ since he last felt this kind of overwhelming emotions. He’d forgotten how to deal with them. Bruce glanced around at his barely lived in apartment. The single bed, kitchenette, and near empty fridge. It said nothing about him and yet it said everything. Everything Tony would need to know to know Bruce is lonely and unhappy. Bruce anxiously awaited for him to wake up in both relief and fear. He wanted Tony to be okay but he knew it was going to tear him up to refuse the offer to come home that he knew was going to come.

 

_ Home. _

 

He knew that the tower had become his home. Regardless of what Bruce had tried to deny while he was there. Living out here had made him realise just how much happier he was with friends and a place to call home. But as much as Bruce really despised being Dramatic, he couldn’t stay. He’d never be able to call something home. It meant too much danger. It brought down too much stress on those around him. He couldn’t allow himself to be happy because that’s when people got hurt.

 

He looks back over at Tony and the sudden urge to run has him shaking again. The Other Guy is restless, scratching and screaming beneath his skin. He can see tear tracks on Tony’s dirty face from where he’s still sitting on the floor and his stomach rolls. He needs to get out.

 

Bruce stands on shaky legs, facing the door with a crestfallen face. As much as his body is begging to leave, his feet won’t move forward or backwards in decision. He’s frozen in his fear of leaving or being around Tony. The metal faceplate is still in his grip, metal biting into the skin of his fingers. The slight pinch of pain being all that is keeping the scream inside himself.

 

He used to be so good at running away. At keep his emotions in check. Years of practice kept him under control. But then SHield and Tony took that control and flipped everything upside down.

 

As if moving in slow motion while underwater in think jello, Bruce very slowly and with great difficulty reached for the door, the urge to run growing stronger. He heard Tony shift behind him as his hand made contact with the lock separating him from the outside world and he froze, listening carefully for any signs of life. He couldn’t bring himself to turn back and look or he might never leave.

 

When there was no movement for an undetermined amount of time that felt like days, Bruce gripped the knob more firmly, slowly moving his hand, whole arm shaking.

 

“Where the fuck are you going?”

 

Bruce jumped a near foot in the air, his tense form only tensing further, he dropped the faceplate and spun around, facing his fears with wide eyes, guilt, and fear etched across his face as plain as day. He tried to speak but nothing came out.

 

Tony sat up on shaky limbs, his eyes holding a cold glare on the other scientist to keep him in place. He coughed slightly, probably still feeling the smoke and wiped at his dirty face, fighting the draw to fall back asleep.

 

Tony huffed in annoyance, though he was feeling anything but at the sight of the man, and hardened his glare. “Are you going to answer? Or run away again.”

 

Bruce flinched at the harsh tone, but that seemed to be exactly what he needed to snap back into himself. With a breath that appeared much more steady than what he was feeling, he straightened slightly appearing to be confident and not in fact terrified of what Tony would say.

 

“I…,” With another look, Bruce cleared his throat and had to look away from him. His eyes unconsciously found the floor, his hands finding each other in nervous ticks. So much for appearing confident. “Out. I was going out,” was the only response he could think of. He knew he couldn’t get away with lying to Tony. But maybe he could divert the conversation?

 

Tony looked like he was fighting an amused grin but Bruce couldn’t tell. Especially since all semblance of a smirk was wiped immediately when Tony sat up and looked around Bruce’s current living space. Bruce temporarily forgot how to breathe.

 

His mouth sets in a grim line that has Bruce unconsciously stepping a centimeter towards the door. He feels small and exposed. He once described the Hulk exposing him like a nerve. This was decidedly worse.

 

“How long have you been living here?”

 

Bruce starts to relax at the question but immediately tenses again. Tony never let’s go of subjects that easily.

 

“...Nine months,” He says in a small voice that’s almost a whisper.

 

A flicker of anger flies across Tony’s features, but it’s gone before Bruce can fully decipher it.

 

“Right.”

 

Bruce was waiting for something else but at Tony’s blank stare, he got nothing. Bruce fidgeted a bit more before Tony gave another huff and laid back down. “Well don’t just stand there looking like Steve getting caught watching porn. I’m hungry. Make some food.”

 

Bruce stares, possibly even more confused and bewildered. Tony makes a hurry up motion with his hand and Bruce for some crazy reason nods. Instructions. Normalcy. He can do that. He doesn’t know why Tony chose to let Bruce off so easily. In fact he was pretty sure it was just a conversation waiting for another time when Tony wasn’t so exhausted from his own meltdown. But regardless, Bruce wasn’t going to question him and instead walked the two feet to his tiny kitchenette, only separated from the bed by a flat top bar. 

 

Bruce hesitantly leaned across the bar so he could better see the other man. “A-Anything in particular?”

 

Tony grunted and covered his head. Bruce was pretty sure he heard Tony mumble, “I missed you,” beneath the blankets but he refused to get his hopes up despite the tiny smile growing on his face and anxiety tightening his chest. Tony always made everything so confusing in the best of ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man. Sorry for the late update. my 21st birthday passed so I've been a little preoccupied ^-^
> 
> Anywho, oh geeze. I miss writing Bruce. Honestly, Bruce is my absolute favorite character xD So writing Tony, though fun, was getting a little irritating because I kept accidentally writing Bruce instead of Tony which I would then have to go back and fix it lmao. Anyway, hope you guys liked it :) Happy late New Years!


	5. Chapter 5

**_Chapter 5_ **

 

Eating with Tony wasn’t so bad. It was… fun. Bruce had missed this. He had missed fun. Even if fun meant talking with food in your mouth. Bruce watched in rapt attention as Tony retold memories with the team since Bruce had been gone. He currently had rice sticking around his mouth. And somehow one piece of rice in his hair. Bruce didn’t want to tell him.

 

“Okay and so this kid, right? Like fourteen or something he comes SWINGING in on those web thingies I told you about and starts talking about star wars only he didn’t know what it was called and wraps them around little guy turned big guy’s legs and it was AWESOME. Oh man, Bruce. You should’ve seen it. I’m working on making him a new suit right now. You know… I’m thinking wings. Web wings. I don’t know why. Sounds cool though.”

 

Bruce hummed and shoveled more food into his mouth. It was nice seeing Tony this happy. After finding him the way he did… He thought maybe something…  _ No. _ He wasn’t going to stay long enough to find out what happened with Tony. “ _ Just tonight _ ,” He told himself.  _ “Then I’m gone. _ ”

 

“Bruce?”

 

His eyes snapped back up to Tony’s very amused face. His mouth half opened in a question when Tony raised his eyebrows a little more. “I said, what about you?”

 

“What about me?” He repeated with a shrug.

 

“Well. I told you about my run in with spider boy wonder. Now you tell me. What’s new? You’ve been gone for a year, Bruce. Something must’ve happened.”

 

Bruce shrugged again and suddenly didn’t feel so hungry. He stared at Tony’s jean covered knees sitting across from him on his tiny bed. “I don’t know what to tell you, Tony. I’ve just been… here. I flew around for awhile. Then i just… walked. Until I got here.”

 

Tony’s mouth fell into a frown as he took in the empty words. He had another glance around the apartment, seeming to be running numbers and calculations in his head.

 

“So you’ve just been… here.”

 

With a sigh, Bruce felt himself shrink up very slightly. “Yes, Tony.”

 

“For a year.”

 

“...”

 

“Bruce.”

 

He involuntarily glanced up at his friend-  _ no damnit-  _ his … ex colleague, Their eyes met and Bruce immediately knew Tony was going to ask a not so good question. He immediately grabbed both of their plates, mumbling about his place being a mess despite being nearly empty. As he got up though, Tony stood too, grabbing his arm. “Bruce,” He said again, although this time it was less stern and more… un Tony like. Bruce stayed facing the other way, not able to handle Tony being… unTony.

 

“Are you happy?”

 

Bruce stood still, keeping his head low. He didn’t offer an answer, but honestly that was enough of an answer for Tony to understand.

 

“You know, the only reason why I didn’t come after you was because I thought you’d be happier without us. Without your friends.”

 

Bruce sighed. He pulled his arm out from Tony’s grip, moving to put the plates in the sink. Then with heavy feet he faced Tony, though looking away from him. “It’s…. Complicated. I left for a lot of reasons, Tony. None of it’s any of yours or the teams fault. There’s a lot of things you don’t underst-”

 

“Then help me understand, Bruce! I  _ want _ to understand! Was it because Natasha kissed you? Because you know she’s totally over that now. Was I too pushy about getting you to move in? Did… did something happen that I don’t know about? You just- you just left! You left and I was-” Tony clamped his mouth shut at his almost confession and huffed out an angry sigh. “Damnit, I just. Everyone misses you .We were all worried when you took off. You didn’t even say goodbye!”

 

“I already said it wasn’t the team!” Bruce hadn’t meant to shout but at Tony’s frustrations, Bruce only grew angrier at himself. He knew he was going to hurt them but he figured it wouldn’t be that bad. They’d all get over him. And the worst part was? Any sane person would’ve stepped away and called the military at even the slightest twitch from Bruce. But Tony? His face grew in concern and he stepped closer. Bruce hated how much he loved that.

 

After a couple of calming breaths, Bruce grew more steady, with his eyes closed and hands clasped tight. “I just.. Damnit Tony, Can’t we talk about this later? I don’t know if… It’s not a good idea. For me. To talk about this.”

 

Bruce craved Tony’s carefree face that was there only moments ago. But per usual his past mistakes tended to take away any and all joy from those he cared about. Bruce could feel himself pulling further away into himself the longer Tony looked at him like he’d shattered the man’s whole world.

 

To anyone else, Bruce getting emotional would strike fear into them. But Tony could very easily see the pain that lingered there, seeping into every bone in the man’s body. Tony was angry. Of course he was. But… He’d just found Bruce again. If he yelled at him for running away it’d only cause the man to leave  _ again _ . And that was the last thing Tony wanted. So instead of continuing the confrontation, he sighed and took another couple of steps towards his friend.

 

Bruce was still expecting an attack and had to keep himself from stepping back, wanting nothing more than to get away from Tony and his biting words.

 

“Do you want to see a movie?”

 

Bruce blinked.  _ What. _ He looked at Tony and couldn’t comprehend what was happening. Before he could think of a response though, Tony was rambling and backtracking fast.

 

“I-I mean. If that’s a thing. To do around here. Or we could go out to eat. But we just ate… let’s just- We need to get out. Go do something. I-”

 

And suddenly Bruce was laughing. Only slightly, and the sound was more hollow than what a normal laugh would be, but he was laughing nonetheless. Tony had a soft smile at that but covered it up with a smirk. “Was it something I said?”

 

Bruce shook his head, fighting to keep the laughter from seeping out again. Really this whole situation is a bit ridiculous. “We could see a movie. I uhm. There’s a Cinema about an hour south of here that shows movies in English.”

  
Tony looks around for a second before spotting one of Bruce’s discarded hoodies with some phrase on it in a language he didn’t understand. He pulled it over his head, with the hood up, and gave Bruce a manic grin. “Well let’s go then Big Guy. You got a car?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yooooo look who's late again! Lmao sorry guys. I kind of lost my muse there for awhile but with the new Ragnarok trailer LOOK WHO'S BACK!! So Hopfully I can start updating more again. Also this chapter was meh to me. Sorry if it's not good :/ the next chapter is even worse so far xD Oh man. We'll see how this plays out though I guess. Happy reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**_Chapter 6_ **

 

Bruce did not, in fact, have a car. So they took a cab. Which for some reason, Bruce found absolutely hilarious.

 

Not that Tony complained. Just to be able to see  _ The Tony Stark _ huddled up in a baggy hoodie in the back of a smelly cramped cab, well, Bruce never thought he’d see the day.

 

Bruce let it go however and looked forward at the cabbie, still having a light smile on his face however.

 

“Hello. Je, wewe akili kuturudisha kwenye ukumbi wa michezo katika mji wa pili juu?”

((“Hello. Would you mind taking us to the theater in the next town over?”))

 

The driver nodded with some response that Tony didn’t understand but had Bruce flushing slightly, starting a sentence but stopping halfway through when the man started laughing and waved for him to sit down. Tony looked at him, amused, and poked his shoulder to get Bruce to quit hiding in his jacket from embarrassment. “What did he say?” He half whispered. Cabs always made him nervous to speak louder than a whisper. Kind of like a library.

 

“O-oh uh nothing. Just a joke. It’s fine.”

 

“Aww Brucey, come on. I wanna know.”

 

Bruce groaned and hid his face in his hands. “Ugh Fiiiine. He said, ‘Yeah, uhakika. Wewe na mpenzi wako kupata starehe huko nyuma, ni njia kidogo mbali.’”

 

Tony rolled his eyes and nudged Bruce again. “And that means… Come on Bruce. I don’t speak whatever the fuck that language is. African?”

 

“It’s Swahili. Native here.”

 

“Uh huh. Never heard of it. And you still didn’t tell me what he said.”

 

Bruce’s face grew a bit red as he looked away from Tony, mumbling quietly. “Hecalledyoumyboyfriend.”

 

It took Tony a couple of seconds to figure out what Bruce had said but once he had, a rather large laugh escaped his throat which had him clinging onto Bruce’s shoulder, nearly toppling the man over in his seat. “Awwww is Brucey embarrassed to call me his Boyfwend? That’s so cuuute.”

 

That seemed to cure Bruce of his embarrassment, triggering and eye roll and a smile as he pushed Tony off of him. “Shut up.”   
  
They looked at each other for a second, Bruce realising he was doing that thing again. Enjoying himself. Getting too attached. He frowned and looked away, missing the way Tony’s expression dropped as well. The rest of the ride was spent in tense silence.

 

Paying the cabbie, Bruce exited the vehicle, avoiding Tony’s gaze. This was supposed to be fun. But how could he have fun with Tony while simultaneously keeping his distance? He didn’t see Tony rounding the car to meet him, though he did hear the approaching foot steps.

 

“Anything you wanted to see in particular?”

 

Bruce shrugged in response, hands pushed deep into the pockets of his jacket. “You’re the one who wanted to go…,” he mumbled.

 

Tony huffed, crossing his arms and stopping right in front of Bruce. Bruce looked up slightly in confusion, though guilt lingered there as well.

 

“Look, if you didn’t want to see a movie, you didn’t have to. Stopping giving me the cold shoulder, Banner. I missed my friend and wanted to spend some time with you before you took off again. The least you could do is pretend to enjoy it. I know I’m not  _ that _ insufferable to be around.

 

“I…,” Bruce groaned softly, closing his eyes. He  _ knew  _ this was a bad idea. “Look. Tony. It’s not that I’m not enjoying myself, Okay? It’s just-”

 

“Just what, Bruce. It’s just too  _ taxing _ ? Am I too  _ annoying _ ? Is that why you left? Because you couldn’t put up with me anymore? Just like Pepper di-”

 

“Tony! Tony, stop!”

 

Tony was breathing hard, eyes alit with fury as he raised his voice in Bruce’s face. His hands were shaking.

 

Bruce, who wasn’t cowering exactly, but damn sure took a step back, was eyeing his friend nervously.

 

With a deep breath, Tony stepped back, a hand running down his face. “Sorry. I just- Damnit Bruce. I wanna be friends again. But you keep- You’re just… Don’t you wanna be friends again?” He asked in a desperate, almost exasperated voice.

 

“Tony…”

 

“No, okay! Don’t ‘Tony’ me. Just tell me. Right now. Are we still friends or not, Bruce. Because you’re seriously sending me mixed signals and I can’t fucking take it.”

 

Bruce sighed, glancing around. They hadn’t really drawn a crowd but people were certainly glancing back at them, making Bruce nervous. With an annoyed huff, Bruce grabbed Tony’s arm, taking a denied delight in the way the man seemed to lean into the touch despite his frustrations, and led him to the side of the theatre where the people traffic was much smaller.

 

“We’re friends. At least… I want to be. But Tony, I’m dangerous! I can’t  _ have  _ friends! We already tried that and look what happened. What if I hurt you one day? I couldn’t- I can’t let that happen. Can we just move on please? And enjoy this day?”

 

“No Bruce, we can’t. Because you wouldn’t be enjoying it.”

 

“I-I am-”

 

“No. You’re not.”

 

Running a frustrated hand through his curly hair, Bruce breathed deeply, holding his eyes shut. “I want to have fun. I want to be here with you,” He said in a forced calm tone. It was hard not to be anything other than calm around the other man. “I just… I already told you! I can’t have this… happy life. I can’t just go out with friends and enjoy a movie every once in awhile. Maybe we should turn back… This was a bad idea.”

 

Tony reached out to grab Bruce’s arm, but at his friend’s shaken and frustrated expression, but thought better of it. Instead he stepped in the man’s way again as Bruce started to turn with the intention of leaving. “Bruce. No, I’m sorry. I didn’t- We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, okay? But It’ll be fine if we do, buddy. Look, don’t worry about hurting me, okay? I got FRIDAY set to call in a suit if I’m in danger. And if you start getting a bit green, we can always leave. It’ll be okay, man. You’re allowed to have fun.”

 

“Even if I did give you warning, you wouldn’t be able to stop the Other Guy, Tony. I don’t care how strong you think you are. You saw what he did in Wakanda. If you couldn’t stop him then, you certainly can’t stop him now. And Who’s Friday? Is that the new JARVIS?”

 

Now it was Tony’s turn to backpedal. And fast. He sighed, rubbing his face, and rolled his shoulders to get the cricks out. “Yeah. Basically. Anyway, Bruce it’s fine. You’re not going to Hulk out. I won’t let you. Now  _ Please _ can we go do  _ something _ . I just- I just want to hang out with you! Jesus fuck Bruce. It doesn’t have to be this complicated! Just because you scared off Natasha, it doesn’t mean you’re going to scare me away. Stop being so fucking dramatic about this and watch a damn movie with me.”

 

Bruce stared, fists curling as anger rose in the pit of his stomach. Closing his eyes once more in an obvious need to breath calmly, Bruce sidestepped Tony, tossing a “Goodbye, Stark,” over his shoulder.

 

Cursing silently, Tony did actually grab Bruce’s arm this time, Dragging the man back, despite Bruce’s shout of disapproval. “Damnit- No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” Tony huffed, not letting go of Bruce as he got his thoughts in order.

 

“Bruce, I’m a mess. Okay? An absolute mess. I’m cold and I say the wrong things, and I piss everyone off, but…” He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and looked up at his friend’s closed off face. “But. I feel a little… not so messy. When you’re around. Alright? So I’m sorry. That I messed up and pissed you off. But it’s only because… If I lose you again, Bruce… I… I don’t know. Something bad. You’re awesome. And I missed you. Like a lot. So.. Give me a chance? To be your friend again? Please.”

 

So many emotions were raging through Bruce. On one hand he wanted to instantly forgive Tony. Swoop the man uncharacteristically into a huge hug and never let go. Another side of him however wanted to run. Run and never come back. But just like with Ultron and all the other crazy things Tony talked him into, Bruce really couldn’t say no to him. Not when Tony was looking so lost and desperate at him, the hand on his arm tightening in desperation.

 

So with a defeated sigh, Bruce looked down, anger fading away to a small bubble that always occupied the back of his mind. “I guess, Tony. Just… No murder robots this time, okay?”

 

Cracking a smile, Tony let go and instead slung an arm around Bruce’s shoulders causing the man to jump. He still wasn’t used to so many casual touches. “No promises, big guy! I told you, we need to strut.”

 

“Ooh Tony, I think you strut enough for the both of us.”

 

They walked out to the front with smiles and laughter, albit Bruce’s were much more subtle and hidden, there all the same.

 

They still had issues. Bruce still felt that lingering fear and rage. And Tony still clung a little more desperately to his friend, afraid he’d poof away at any second, but at least they were together. At least they were happy, if only for a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically filler? I just. I needed something to distract me for a bit. I'm sure everyone has heard about Hurricane Harvey by now. Well, Hi. I'm from the Houston area lmao. I'm okay though so no need to worry! It's all just a bit scary lmao. I don't know how I feel about this chapter? But honestly I hate my writing lmao so meh. Hope you guys enjoy it though :) Everyone stay safe and dry! Anyone else affected by the storm, feel free to reach out to me. I know how fucking terrifying it can be so. I'm here :) Also I used google translate. Apologies if it's incorrect lmao


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